The List
by aqua123kitty
Summary: After finding an old record of his previous... accomplishments, France noticed that only one desirable country was absent from this list. Nothing could stop him from completing what he set out to do originally. Nothing. Not even a certain bushy-browed Brit with a cockblock complex. At least, not forever... Right?
1. Fond Memories

**_A/N_**

**Hello lovelies! Welcome to my first ever (posted) fan fiction!  
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**I have written several, but I never really got the guts up to actually publish these bad boys, though I found this one the most fun to write, and the most humorous, so I figure, what the heck!  
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**This is inspired, simply because I laugh the hardest when France makes a joke about America being hot and England freaks out. This will be the entire fic. I dunno if it's been done before or not, but I'll try to make it as original as possible!  
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**I hope you at least laugh, though if this is proven to be lame and stuff, or no one likes it, I'll end up taking it off. So if you _really_ like it and are going to want me to continue, I would love for you to review or follow or something, just to let me know you're there (:  
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**This has some swears since Prussia's in it and all, so just to warn you! Also, suggestive content, 'cause France... and that's the reason for the T rating!  
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**Maybe if I get good feedback for this I'll post some of my (thousands) of other fics!  
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**Also, I apologize for the random unnecessary French in this chapter, but considering that I've only just started high school level French III, this is the best I've got xD  
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**Without further adieu, please enjoy this fanfiction!  
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**After the disclaimer:  
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**I do not own Hetalia  
**

* * *

Cleaning out anything is a naturally boring affair. One seems to always get distracted by the items they find, and cease to continue what they originally set out to accomplish. This normally occurs when one finds something that they had lost, as they in turn, get swept away from their responsibilities in blissful memories.

Even countries aren't exceptions to this rule.

"_Honhonhon~_ Look at this!_ Très magnifique_!"

A certain nation was currently in in corner of his attic, curled up into a ball whilst giggling like a schoolgirl with bubble tape. Only seductively. This person in particular, had stumbled upon a simple leather bound book, written by his own hand. All that was in said book, were names of other countries, along with seemingly random dates. To the untrained eye, this book would seem like nothing more then a birthday reminder, or even a schedule planner. However, once you learn that this is France's book, all innocent assumptions fly out the window.

"I cannot believe I still have this!" He kicked his feet out and wiggled them in delight. Yet, the book came to a sudden stop! This was definitely not up to date! "_Un stylo_! I must have a pen somewhere!" He quickly reached into his pocket and excitedly pulled out the writing utensil, scribbling down more names in a hast.

"When was that again? Oh right! And..._oui, oui._" He muttered as he wrote the names, trying to recall all of the new countries he needed to add. Once finished, he scanned over the new nations a few times more, before breaking out into an insanely creepy grin. "_Parfait._" He hugged the book close.

"I've done it! Haven't I? Every single one!" He cackled his original laugh, and pulled the book away from his body, opening it once more. He reread the beautiful list one more time, sighing contently. "I simply cannot banish you to storage now can I, _mon petit chouchou? Non!_ You will stay right by my side until I can show you to _Espagne et Prusse!_"

"_France? Are you done up there yet?_" France cringed as he heard his boss call. He hadn't realized just how long he had spent reminiscing with his book when he should have been cleaning.

"_Une minute!_" He yelled back, stuffing the book into his back pocket and frantically moving several dusty boxes into neater stacks.

* * *

"Oh no way! This is _priceless_!" Prussia bellowed. He was currently holding the old brown book, laughing at it's content.

"Props to you, I never thought anyone could do it!" Spain said, blinking away his surprise.

"_Oui,_ I expected you two to forget about this. And of course, you're both absent. Otherwise it would just be _très bizarre_!" France's grin had not left his face. "I expect neither of you completed yours, correct?"

"No one's as big a whore as you Francis."

"_Si,_ I forgot about mine centuries ago."

"Then I suppose you two know what this means?" Frances waggled his eyebrows. "I am the _K__ing_ of the Bad Touch!"

"You're still not as awesome as me."

"I would like to say that bet expired, but _mi amigo,_ this is impressive!" Spain said, leaning over the book to catch another glimpse, as Prussia was hogging it, trying desperately to find a major absence.

"Yeah man, this is insane. You gotta have missed someone." Prussia muttered. "I mean, besides impossible countries like Spain's little bitch, and that leek-teen-stine or whatever." He continued to flip through the pages madly.

"_Non,_ everyone's there. Look as long as you want, you won't find any errors."

"But I'm definitely the awesome leader of this group! You can't take this away from me!" Prussia complained without removing his eyes from the book. Apparently, extremely determined.

"You are not the leader! Nor were you ever!"

"Sure as hell wasn't you!"

"Romano is _not_ my _perra_!" Spain finally put two and two together and realized who Prussia was implying.

"Well I am the _King_ now." France said with a devious smile, that only succeeded in making Prussia's scowl increase.

"Just because you out sluted us _shouldn't_ mean- ... hang on." Prussia immediately flipped to the beginning of the book again.

"I am truly the country of _l'amour, Prusse_. Give it up." France said, disregarding the blank expression the Prussian suddenly acquired as he began to read more intently.

"How did you find this anyway?" Spain asked, scratching his head.

"I was cleaning out my attic and I stumbled upon it."

"And you had _everyone_ you didn't have before?"

"_Oui_. Every country we associate ourselves with."

"You're crazy." Spain said, shaking his head with an amused smile.

"I GOT IT!" Prussia yelled suddenly. Making the two unsuspecting countries jump. "I knew it! You missed someone!_ Kesesese~_"

"I did not! Third world, and illogical countries do not count!"

"This guy's definitely neither."

"Who is it?" Spain piped up, trying to take the book from Prussia who would not allow it.

"_Kesese!_ You're an idiot! How do you miss him!"

"Who _Prusse_?!"

"_Mein Gott_, you even have _Canada_ whoever that is!"

"...Who?" Spain tilted his head.

"_PRUSSE_!"

"You fucking missed _America_!"

France paused. He would have protested, he should have, but he couldn't. He racked his brain desperately for any recollection of getting America. Nothing. He was fairly sure he would have remembered the muscular young country. Unless they were drugged or something. How could he have missed_ America!?_

"No way!" Spain said, laughing "So much for King, eh?" He elbowed France lightly with a smile.

"YEAH! Look for yourself! I guess he's just so obvious we didn't think to look for him." Prussia said, handing Spain the book who quickly ran through it.

"_Mon Dieu... Amérique_?"

"Your right! He's not in there!" Spain confirmed.

"He's so stupid too! How could you not trick him into it!" Prussia laughed his own original laugh.

"Shut up! I-I could get him in one week!"

"A week? Isn't that a little too over confident if you haven't after all this time?" Spain teased.

"_Non_! I know I can! I just forgot about him or something!"

"How 'bout this Frenchie." Prussia smiled deviously. "You can have _two weeks_ to trick America into the sack, and if you do, you can still be the king or whatever. But if you don't, this trio is mine!"

"That is fine." France was positive it would take him two to three days to get the boy, so that was perfect. "I'll have no problems."

"Oh really?" Prussia raised an eyebrow.

"_Oui,_ I can't think of anything that will get in the way besides you two, or _maybe_-" France paused. Oh _merde_. France now remembered how he completely overlooked the attractive boy. Every attempt had been throttled.

"Don't tell England." France begged.


	2. Unexpectedly Unnerved

_**A/N**_

**Hello again!  
**

**Thank you so much for the support everyone has shown! I'm really excited to get this out to y'all haha!  
**

**Also, sorry about not posting this yesterday, but I was at my grandparents all day, and they have no internet.  
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**I hope this doesn't disappoint, but next chapter is definitely better than this one, just saying. Also, I cannot decide if I'm going to do third person or do switch off first, because I change it later.. hmm..  
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**I hope everyone likes this as much as they have enjoyed the story line, thanks again!  
**

**I still don't own Hetalia, just saying.  
**

* * *

It started out as a pleasant day for the small country just off the coast of Europe. The rain showed no signs of breaking, and the air was in a pleasant state, not too hot, not too cold. Just how he liked it.

Currently, said country was sitting out on his front porch, enjoying the sights of his red garden whilst sipping his mid afternoon cup of tea. Nothing could make this moment more blissful. He shut his eyes and inhaled deeply the surroundings of his home, feeling refreshed as he listened to the lovely tune of his national anthem softly ringing in his ear, adding to the serendipity of this moment.

...Wait. How the _hell_ was God Save the Queen playing right now?

Knitting his impressive eyebrows in annoyance of the realization, he slipped his hand into his pocket and grasped a hold of his Blackberry (Iphones bugged the ever living daylight out of him). He checked the caller I.D., hesitating for a moment.

_Why on earth would Spain be calling me?_ Sighing, he decided there were more irritating countries in this world, and clicked the receive button, bringing the phone to his ear

_"HEY, IGGY! FRANCE IS GONNA FUCK YOUR BOY TOY!"_ England quickly ripped the device away, wincing at the loud voice. This one for instance, would be one of the more annoying countries.

"Prussia? What the hell are you talking about!" England demanded. Laughter could be heard on the other end, both Prussia's and, he recognized, Spain's.

_"I said _not_ to tell him! Mon dieu! Hang up! Hang up!"_ The line suddenly went dead._ Figures those three would be together_. England thought pointedly, immediately knowing that was the frogs voice. He put the phone down on the table and went back to sipping his tea, after all, whoever France slept with was none of his business. It was their problem.

But then there was the issue of what Prussia said: '_Boy Toy'_ was it? Well he couldn't imagine who he knew well enough to be considered that. Unless France was planning on screwing his boss. Then that would be a problem. He figured that wasn't the scenario however, that would just be messed up on a number of levels.

"Oh blast all." England muttered, setting down his cup. "Now I can't even enjoy my tea." Taking one more distasteful look at his phone before stuffing it into his pocket, he stalked back into his house. Swearing to himself not to call them back.

* * *

England's personal sworn oath was quickly starting to ruin his life. The entire day he couldn't get the subject out of his head, like a seed subtlety planted away at the back of his brain, slowly sprouting into a full blown Chia Pet.

He was so frustrated he burned his favorite scone recipe, so much so, that even _he_ found it inedible!

Also at one point, while trying to distract himself by reading one of his favorite books, his head started to itch immensely. Ten minutes later when he removed his hand, there was a_ clump of hair_. A bald spot could be forming on his scalp for all he knew!

He shattered one of his vases, sure it was ugly regardless, but England was not a normally clumsy person! Not to mention that he broke his quill tip _seven_ _times_ while simply signing documents, and tripped over the same damn spot on the leg of his coffee table every time he would walk into the living room, no matter how he positioned it.

The sky was beginning to darken now, and England simply couldn't take the pressure any longer. He looked around once, as if to make sure no one would see him, and then slyly pulled his phone from his pocket, going to the corner of his room where there were no windows.

He quickly dialed Prussia's number, despite the lump in his stomach that was telling him how bad of an idea this was. He listened to it ring once...twice...three times. _Pick up or so help me god..._

_"YO! You've reached The Awesome, otherwise known as King Awesome, Lord Awesome, or Prussia. Leave a message and I probably won't call you back because you're not worth my time."_ BEEP.

England scowled deeply, but began to talk into the phone regardless. "What the hell were you talking about earlier? You can't just drop bombs like that and leave. I demand to know what you meant and you better call back, twot!" He hung up the phone angrily, hoping that the idiot would hear the seriousness in his voice. He supposed however, that he might as well get some sleep and a break from thinking about the matter at hand. It probably wasn't that big of a deal either way, if France was trying to sleep with him again, England would just punch him in his vital regions.

* * *

It had to be around 3am when Prussia finally called him back. Needless to say, England sprung from the bed and leaped across the room onto his phone, before his ringtone even had a chance to make a loop. Honestly, he hadn't gotten a wink of rest. It was that kind of annoying insomnia where you're nervous or excited about something, and you just keep twisting and turning in your bed, not tired in the slightest.

"Hello?" He answered too quickly.

"_What's shakin' bacon?_" Prussia answered in a way that immediately ticked England off further.

"You know exactly 'what's shaking'" England hissed.

"_Sure do, Honeydew! Just fucking with ya_." England's eye proceeded to twitch uncontrollably. "_But seriously bro, I don't know if I can tell you now. Francis kinda made it a point that he would kill me if I did_." There was a not-so-hidden tone in his words, like someone who was clearly about to reveal a big secret.

"But?" England said.

"_Buuut, because I'm so awesome, I might just tell you... for a price."_ England could practically see the mischievous grin on his face. He winced.

"What...kind of price?"

_"Kesesese~, it depends on how desperate you are."_

"Prussia. I am not in the mood."

_"Hey, do you want to know this huge ass secret or not?_" England bit his lip.

"It not _that_ large of a deal to me. I'm just slightly curious as to why you called me on Spain's phone." He bluffed.

_"You're way more likely to pick up his call then mine._" He said.

"Then what was so bloody important that you needed to get a hold of me that badly?!" England shouted, probably waking up any of his neighbors, and quickly quieted down.

_"I _could_ tell you._" Prussia started _"But ya gotta say you'll pay up!_"

"Clearly you _want_ to tell me and will either way, otherwise you wouldn't have called back." England seethed. "So why should I sell my soul if you're going to reveal this anyway?"

"_Hey, I never said you had to pick your phone up in the butt crack of night. That shows obsession, limey."_ England cursed mentally. _"And I can hold out until it actually happens, then make fun of you for all of eternity for it."_ His laughter on the other end made something inside England snap.

"Why you little- ... What exactly would you want?" He growled, displeased with his untameable compulsion.

"_Kesese~, that comes in later, my pet."_

"I'm _not_ doing anything that involves stripping."

"_Aw come o- No, that's not what I wanted you to do anyways."_ Prussia quickly caught himself. _"It just would've been that much more fucking hilarious if you were naked while doing it."_

"PRUSSIA!"

_"Agree now and get your punishment later! Deal or no deal, bitch!_ " England slammed his forehead into his palm.

"_Fine_." He hissed with great intensity, fighting to keep his voice down. "Now tell me before I drive to your house and _beat it out of you_."

"_No need to get your panties in a bunch. It won't be that horrible, you just won't think the secrets worth it 'till I tell you. Know what I mean, jellybean?_"

"What's the damn secret then? Who were you talking about?" England was gripping the phone so hard that his knuckles were white.

"_If you wanna know, I've gotta tell you the entire story, 'cause it's pretty fucking great. So shut your lip, potato chip and let the awesome me talk freely."_

"Then _start talking._"

Prussia grinned to himself. This was working out so perfectly, even _he_ was impressed with himself. "So way back when the three of us first met and established our awesome trio, we realized we needed a leader, and of course the natural choice is me, but the other idiots thought they should have a chance. So Antonio came up with a plan that reminds me to this day that he's as devious as the rest of us, he said that the person who fucked the most girls, got to be the leader."

_"That is horrible and degrading!"_

"I _know_! God that kid's a genius! But this is way back in the day, so zip your trap bird crap, and let me finish." Prussia was on a _role_ with those things.

"As I was saying, we went on a mad race to screw all the woman we could, and we were all pretty much tied until France decided to sleep with a nation and count it as _ten fucking points_. Now I'm not gonna tell you which one it was, but there is no way in hell she could have been that good."

_"I think I'm going to be sick."_

"So after a debate, we decided to switch over to a new way of dealing with it, 'cause all bitches love us, so that's not a challenge. Whoever slept with the most _nations_, would be the new leader. Though after awhile, it started to go downhill for me and Antonio, because I can screw girls like there's no tomorrow, but I am _no no pene-o_, and Antonio could only take so much whoring, so the two of us came up with a new plan to stop Francis from taking over, 'cause he doesn't give two fucks about gender or personality."

_"This is the most disturbing story I have ever heard."_

"I'M GETTING TO THE GOOD PART! Sheesh! Anyways, so we decided we would make the new-new pact be whoever slept with _every_ nation would be the leader of the trio. And we had added a lot of shit under the position 'leader' when we thought we had a chance mind you, so after a while this was _big_. And to be sensible, we said no third world countries, things that would be pedophilia, and some random exclusions that we didn't want anyone to sleep with. Antonio and I figured this would be impossible for anyone to complete, so we would all remain equal members for the most part. But I am totally the unelected leader of awesome."

"_Let me guess, you guys underestimated France, correct?_"

"Well aren't you just a genius? But, yeah, he found the book where he had been keeping track this morning, and found out he somehow he managed to sleep with _every fucking country we talk to_... except one." Prussia paused, feeling excitedly evil.

"_...W-who?_" England asked hesitantly. _Awe_ _man_ did Prussia wish he could see his face!

"It's kinda pathetic too! The kid's so dumb... But whatever. So we made a bet that if France could trick him into the sack in less then two weeks, he gets to be the leader. But if not, the world is spared of the horrors that jerk would unleash." Prussia shuddered at the thought.

"_Damn it Prussia! Who!"_

"Kesesese~ why don't you take a wild guess?"

"_I don't _know_! Why the hell else would I still be paying attention?_" Prussia laughed out loud, this was way too fun! Man was eyebrows great to screw with or what?

"It won't be epic if I just say it to you! I gotta super spie this shit over like with an awesome jet or-"

_"TEXT IT TO ME THEN, IDIOT"_

"Okey-Dokey Artichokey." He agreed, and hung up the device before he could get yelled at again. As he started to text the name, he was still fighting back laughter towards France.

* * *

England stared at the phone intently, still wondering his head off about who could be so_ fucking important_ that Prussia wouldn't just tell him. Then again, it was Prussia. He was struck with sudden terror at the fact that this was taking so long, was he not going to tell still?

His phone gave to a quick vibration, he raped the 'accept' button and read the single letter.

_'A'_

"What?" he said out loud, before his phone went into a fit of small vibrations. He accepted the second one.

_'M'_

England raised an eyebrow.

_'E'_

_'R'_

"Amer-?" He stopped himself. He went to the next letter regardless, knowing what it was either way.

_'I'_ He sighed

_'C'_

_'A'_

_'LOL i sent the 1st letter by mistake cause M's rite nxt 2 the send button. im awesome even when i mess up'_

England read the last bit, and blinked.

His body shook with sudden convulsions, he tried not to make any sounds, but he couldn't help it, the need was too great.

He threw his head back in violent laughter, relieved, nervous, or just plain joyful? It was hard to tell. But he couldn't stop laughing. Why the _hell_ would Prussia think he cared about France's sex life? Much less _Americas_? Hell, those were the two countries he would give anything to never see again! He burst out into another fit of hysterics, before finally calming down enough to grab proper hold of his phone, and was able to type back:

_'Hahahaha! I cannot BELIEVE you would think I gave a damn! I should be mad at you, and frankly, I will most definitely be in the morning, but I must get all my laughter out before I kick your arse.'_

He sent the message, still chuckling, and set it beside his bed table, face down. No way was he dealing with Prussia's antics again. _Finally_ he was able to sleep with the reassurance that the 'secret' didn't matter at all.

However, because he drifted off into sleep so quickly, he missed the text sent right after his. It read:

'_We shall see lover boy. We shall see.'_

* * *

**What is Prussia planning? Does England _really_ note care? And what about poor America?! Stay tuned!**


	3. Deny, Deny, Deny

**_A/N  
_Hello Lovelies!**

**So this chapter is going to be in first person, unlike the others. I'm thinking every three chapters I will make a first person with either England, America or (_maybe_) France.  
**

**Everyone's been so nice, that I decided to get this bad boy out immediately the next day instead of dilly-dallying. You're all wonderful!  
**

**There is ... suggestive content in this. Again, I blame France. Or- England in this case.  
**

**And we finally introduce our poor little Alfred~ God this chapter was so much fun to write. However, after this we've run out of prewritten chap's so it may take me a while to get out the next one. Less then a week though, don't worry.  
**

**So, I don't own Hetalia obviously.  
**

**And Enjoy!  
**

* * *

_England_

"Does _anyone_ have _anything_ to add?" Germany asked the half conscious group of nations around him. Absolutely no one made a motion that indicated interest, so Germany sighed dramatically. "Really? _Anyone_?" America raised his hand politely.

"I uh, I have something to add."

"Not a single person?"

"M-me Mr. Germany."

"No one?"

"Uh, Germany" He glanced at me gratefully when I spoke up. I adjusted my tie and pointed to America. "That idiot seems to need to say something." The meeting turned their gazes on to said country, who fidgeted under the spotlight.

"Oh great." Germany leaned back and proceeded to massage his temples. "Anyone _besides_ America?"

"U-uh. I'm Canada." The nation smiled shyly.

The table of nations froze. After a few moments, they braved looking around at one another, a few "_who_" 's were audible, but no one seemed to even know if this guy was a nation or not. It seemed to turn a few gears in my mind, but I really couldn't recall him either.

"R-right. Can..." Germany trailed off.

"ah-duh." The supposed nation finished for him helpfully.

"Yes! Um. You can speak right after the break... going on right now!" Germany said, then turned to Japan immediately, asking if he was real or not.

The nations let out relieved chatter and many began to leave the room, all excited for the sudden grace period.

That's when it finally clicked for me, Canada! Of course! The less annoying of my two previous North American Colonies! Feeling bad for the lad, I got up to speak to him.

"Hello, Amanada!" I greeted, smiling brightly.

"Hi England..." Ca- … He said with a sigh. I gave him a sympathetic look of course, understanding fully why he was upset.

"Listen, I'm sorry I called you an idiot earlier." I shifted awkwardly. "I honestly thought you were America, I truly am sorry."

"No problem." He smiled coyly. "I'm used to it." I nodded to him, but still felt mildly bad. "I just thought that, since America isn't here and all, that maybe I would _finally_ get the chance to-"

"Wait a tick." I eyed him strangely. "America _is_ here."

"No... I'm Canada."

"Don't be daft, boy. I mean, I just saw him this morning." I scratched my head as a hazy memory flooded into my mind. Yes, he greeted me in the halls, and I know for certain that it was him because he used that infernal nickname that I hate so much. _Iggy_, was it? Only he, Prussia, and Sealand use that on me, so it mustn't have been Camera. Though, Sealand hardly counts.

"Oh yeah, he snuck away with France a while ago." Canada blinked questionably. "I thought you knew?"

My face paled. "F-France?" I felt my heartbeat increase at a rapid rate as the thought processed through my brain.

"Yeah. They sure are taking a while though." He tilted his head in thought.

"Which way did they go?" I asked desperately, feeling my hands getting clammy.

"I dunno. Down the hall, to the left I think."

"Thanks Canarica." I muttered as I proceeded towards the door to the conference room unconsciously, my feet taking his directions without my brain agreeing. I started to walk faster, wondering if this hallway ever needed, it was always the same door with the same wallpaper and same carpet, over and over!

Finally, the finish was in sight. A small door at the end of this tunnel. I approached it cautiously, having an inner debate on whether I should knock or not.

_"Fra-France I-"_

I stopped dead. That was America's voice.

_"Hush my sweet."_ And that was _definitely_ the frogs. _"Don't struggle."_

These... disturbing words allowed me to gain control of my senses. I... I didn't care. America was a g-grown boy now and he had to take responsibility for his own actions. Even if he _was_ with that _nasty slimy lecher,_ it was hardly my place to say any-

_"Ung... Harder."_

My face flushed. To hell with that.

"America?" I asked cautiously. Not daring to open the door in fear of what I might find.

_"Mmhp... ah."_

"France?" I demand, a little louder and a bit more desperate.

_"Moan, mon cher!"_

"America?!" I squeaked again. Hitting the door with an outstretched palm. I didn't care how embarrassing this would be later on in life, just, _god make it stop_.

_"Ah... France."_

"America!" I banged on the door again.

_"You are _mine_."_

"America!" I jiggled the doorknob, but of course it was locked. Never the less, I continued to furiously work at it, praying that it may open.

_"Oh France."_

"AMERICA!"

"WHAT!?"

I shot upwards, nearly losing my vision at the rapid change in velocity. My hands immediately grabbed for my head as I glanced around me, breathing heavily.

I was currently sitting atop my disheveled bed, as the sheets were tousled and the pillows strewn about, it was clear I had a rough night.

"I said, _what_!"

My head whipped in the direction of my door, as it was forcefully pushed open, revealing a confused American who looked relatively uncouth.

"A...merica?"

"What'd I do?!" He whined, giving me a look. "You woke me up, man!"

"Why are you... _in my house_!" I breathed out, utterly scandalized.

"Oh." He reached behind his head to scratch awkwardly. "Well, the World Conference is today, and I sorta forgot to book a room so I-"

"How the _hell_ did you get in here!?" I demanded, rising from my bed as I stomped towards him, attempting to be intimidating.

"Spare key." He grinned, pulling a small golden piece of material from seemingly thin air.

"Where did you- give me that!" I lunged for the object, yanking it out of his hands without a struggle.

"Whatever. I made copies."

Letting out a shaky sigh, I glared heatedly up at him. "Dare I ask _why_ you decided to grace me with your presence instead of the country _hosting_ this meeting?" America just eyed me.

"Dude. It's France. Do you want me to get raped?" I groaned. Of bloody _course_ it's Frances turn to host the World Conference. "I woulda stayed with Prussia, but Germany never lets us stay up to play video games anymore." He pouted childishly, as if trying to convince Germany himself.

"Well, what did you plan to do here?!" I was utterly flabbergasted. A light bulb seemed to go off in his idiot brain, as he beamed suddenly.

"Oh right! Today is White Day!" He shouted, smiling wildly.

I perked a brow "Wot?"

"It's this holiday Japan told me about, like Valentines Day, 'sept reversed." He held up his index finger, as if proving a point. "So it's like, the day to repay all the girls for the chocolate they gave to their fully _deserving_ men a month ago. And since you gave me chocolate, because you're totally the girl, I said, 'Hey, how 'bout I get Iggy somethin'! And Japan was all: 'America-san, I reary rink you are missing ree point.' Then I was like 'No dude, he'll love it!' Then Japan went: 'But Engrand-san is not actarary ah femarwe' So I was all: 'No, 'cause It's the same thing-"

"America!" I shouted, interrupting his whole spiel as he paused for breath. "You... got me a gift then?" I hoped I hadn't sounded too eager, but I really was sort of... sweet to think of me today, I suppose. Either way, I deserved some payment after the way he simply disregarded that Candy bar I got him. The nerve!

His smile returned. "Nope!" My temper immediately begun to flare. Honestly, what else did I expect?

"Get the sodding hell out of my house!" I shouted, pushing him out of my doorway as best I could, but he was so freaking _fat_ he hardly budged an inch.

"But _England_!" He whined, offended by my brashness, apparently. "I haven't even made you breakfast yet!"

"What the- breakfast?"

"Yeah!" He responded cheerily. "I was gonna make you chocolate chip pancakes. I already brought all the shit to make them too so don't worry, I don't have to use your ten year old flour."

"My flour is perfectly up to date thank you!"

"Really? So that's _not_ the reason your food tastes like public bathroom and burnt tire?"

"Shut up!" I frustratedly threw my hands in the air. "Why didn't you just say that to begin with!?" He pursed his lips and looked innocently up to the side.

"MmmMm." He hummed, shrugging his shoulders. I rolled my eyes feeling mildly defeated.

"Fine." I breathed out. "But... you don't have to cook it yourself you know. You already bought all the ingredients. If you want, I could-"

"No that's fine!" He responded frantically, waving his hands in front of him to gesture stopping. "My present, remember? You just get yourself pretty for the meeting later, I'll be done when you are!" He quickly started to push me back into my room, with much more ease than I had had with him.

"Are you sure? It's really not that much of a hassle."

"Seriously, I'll be done in- whoa. Who were you fighting, and more importantly, did you win?" America glanced around my room fully for the first time. I do imagine it was extremely unkempt to his eyes, considering I rarely moved in my sleep normally.

"Oh, I just... Look if you aren't going to go make the damn pancakes than I-"

"NO! The Hero is on it!" America quickly spun away, and proceeded to fast walk down my hallway, all the while shouting "I learned from the best! Seriously, you'll love it!"

Once he was out of sight, I allowed myself a small smile. Though he was an utterly insufferable git, he could be rather thoughtful.

Also, on a _completely _unrelated note, I realized needed to put _Castrate France_ on my to do list.


	4. Tactical Seduction

_**A/N**_

**I am so sorry  
**

**I really did plan to get this out before school, 'cause I knew as soon as it started, I would have literally n time to do so much as think, let alone write a whole chapter...  
**

**I know I said under a week, but this time I mean it when I say you guys have been super supportive and excited, and I'm glad you want me to continue this. So, I will try to make it up to you, and from here on out, the chapters start getting into the almost one-shots I've been planning from the beginning.  
**

**So I've introduced first person, third person, and third person omnipresent for the single idea that I would get to this point. From here on out, I'm true;y going to be testing your loyalty as readers!  
**

**What I want all of you lovelies to do is, if you have an idea of a way France can try to trick America into the sack, PM me, or post it in a review, and if I think I can make it go somewhere, I will make an entire chapter dedicated to France trying to do so! You will be credited in the A/N for you wonderful ideas, and I'll love you forever.  
**

**Though I'm not too excited about this one, as I've written it at completely different spans of time since I kept losing interest. Not to mention it's that awkward transition into bulk chapters... Well, I did try to make it as amusing as they have been!  
**

**Now please enjoy this belated chapter!  
**

* * *

After a pleasant breakfast of chocolate with the occasional piece of pancake batter (England knew he should have been the one cooking), the two English speaking nations finished their preparations for the meeting today, and headed off to the most problematic country in this story, France.

xxx

England hadn't realized just how tense he was at current. While his American sidekick was chattering up a storm about some movie with vampires and Abraham Lincoln, he found himself unable to even pretend to listen.

_Calm down England. It's no big deal. Doesn't mean anything. There is always the chance that Prussia was just being an ass._

As he repeated that to himself, he begun to feel that much better. Still, that didn't mean he wasn't going to punch France in the face simply for existing, and being a sodding pervert.

"-Then I was like 'So that's what he did on his days off!' 'cause I mean seriously, him and that axe was some scary shit." America felt himself shiver, before he glanced down towards his silent companion. "Hey dude, you alright? You've been kinda spacey."

The English nations said nothing, still wrapped up in his own thoughts, so much so he didn't even register the words directed towards him. America frown.

"So then I set fire to the forest of unicorns and burned down every last one of them. The now exist only as Narwhals, and are very hostile." Still, he got no response from England.

"DUDE!" America gave up and proceeded to shake England's shoulder.

"Hm? What?" England immediately registered what was going on and swatted the hand away. "Stop that!"

"Well _saw-ree,_ but you were so gone I swear aliens took your brain."

"Was I?" England scowled. "Well I had to escape somehow after dealing with your incessant babbling for three hours straight." He crossed his arms over his chest.

"That's cold, man." America said, monotone. "Real cold."

They continued down the hallway in a stubborn silence, England counting the number of rooms until the one the meeting would be held in each time they passed a door, while America simply pouted and expected an apology.

The British nation couldn't help but realize just how _different_ this long hallway was to the one in his dream. Only similarity being it seemed to never end, because of the awkwardness, but here the carpet was a dark purple with swirls of white, while the doors had much difference, each having a carved top with such things as a grape vine or cupids.

They were definitely in France.

Finally when England's inner headcount reached one, America proceeded to grumpily open the two grand doors that the endless hallway led to, revealing a mildly expected site.

"Welcome! Ah! Is that _Amerique_ I see?" The French nation grinned at the two new arrivals. "Why you look so nice I almost didn't recognize you!"

He was obviously waiting for the moment they would open the doors, at he was standing in front of them the entire time in anticipation.

"Haha! That's something Canada normally hears." America said grinning, mood uplifted as he obliviously accepted the compliment.

"Come with me _beaux_, I have a surprise for you." France had a somewhat mischievous smile on his face as he linked arms with America, and proceeded to escort him away, disregarding England for once in his life. He'd never expected being ignored by France to be so annoying.

Said British nation didn't react at first, he just stood there, mouth agape in confusion. Sure he'd expected something like this, but not for France to be so upfront about it!

_"Is it another hot green chick statue?"_

_"Ah... no."_

England regained his composure, slightly more agitated than before, and simply walked over to his seat, ignoring the other nations that had arrived early. He proceeded to scathingly watch the two countries from across the table

"Since you were so upset about the uncomfortable chairs before, I had this perfectly cushioned place _spécial_ ordered to sit your well toned behind." France gestured to a large red chair that looked more like a recliner than a meeting seat, which America excitedly indulged in.

"My butt thanks you."

* * *

At first it was cool and all, but after an hour or so of this, France was really starting to creep America out.

I mean seriously, he brushed his hair for him. And he didn't use a comb. Just his fingers. Like, what?

The meeting went by super slow for our American because of this, more so than normal even. He had to deal with Frances obsessive fawning, and England being all bipolar in the corner. Having forgot why he was mad at the British nation, America tried to strike up a conversation with him during break, but it ended kinda like:

_"SODDINGWAKERARSEWIPEWHONEVER APPRECIATEDANYTHINGPRICK."_

Or something like that.

America figured he shouldn't stay with the grumpy Brit because of this, so he planned to book a hotel for the next couple of weeks. The nations were in on some big Eco-friendly manure breakthrough or something, so everyone would be staying in or around France for fourteen days

Which left America no choice in the matter either.

"Oh, _Amerique_~?" America silently cursed to himself as his attempt to sneak out with the rest of the nations failed.

"Yeah.. France..." He forced a smile, maybe if he planned it right he could sprint out the next time Frenchy turned his head.

"I was just wondering where your lodgings were at current?" France smiled a terribly disturbing grin and flicked his golden hair behind his shoulder.

"I was just going out to catch a hotel." He gestured with his thumb out the door, which was honestly where he would love to be right now. "Gotta go fast though! You know, beat the mid rush!" America laughed too loudly, clearly nervous

_"Non, non, non, non!_" France shook his head vigorously. "I simply cannot allow a specimen such as yourself to sleep alone! You must stay _ici_ with me!" America felt his face twitch.

"Okaaaay... thanks but-"

"Your room would be directly next to mine, no need to worry, _et_-"

"YO!" America shouted, cutting off the excited Frenchmen. "I appreciated the chair, and the food, and the back massage, and the moist toilet, and the- Well, actually that new shirt was a little much." America shifted his eyes to the right in thought. "But seriously man, you're acting weird. I'll be fine staying at a generic hotel which you will not know the name of." Frances face fell.

"But... _Mon Cher?_"

"Hey, I'll catch later Surrender Monkey!" America shot a brilliant smile to the shocked nation. "Hopefully when you're not high anymore."

As the American left the Frenchmen all alone to wonder what he possibly did wrong, a new approach became evident.

England wasn't the only reason France forgot America

America was just an idiot.

* * *

"I can't believe I'm doing this."

England said out loud to himself, as he continued to walk the cold streets, counting house numbers as he tended to do.

"This is a horrible idea."

His dress shoes skidded on the black sidewalk with each step, filling the lone night with yet another familiar sound.

"I can still turn back."

England let out a final breath as he approached the house, pausing in front of it's doorstep, inwardly talking himself out of it.

_Suck it up!_

Biting his lip, he pushed the doorbell violently, burying his face deeper into his coat. He waited for a few seconds, until the door started to creak open.

"IGGERS!" Prussia bellowed, smiling largely. "I freaking knew it! Come on in!" Prussia gestured to enter his humble abode as England grudgingly abided.

"Never. _Ever_. Call me that again." He said in passing, removing his coat as Prussia shut the door behind them.

"You'll take what you get and like it!"

England scowled, fully regretting his final decision to come here as he tossed his jacket on the nearest chair.

"_Hola_ England!"

"Wh- Spain?" England turned in the direction of the Spanish accented voice, to see said nation lounging back in front of a large flat screen T.V. as it played a Slapstick Comody.

"_Ja_. He's staying with me because France is paranoid." Prussia rolled his eyes, before focusing on England with an evil grin. "And I figured you would be stopping by. Didn't I?" Prussia asked his friend.

"You did say that."

England shifted in embarrassment, desperate to talk about something else."Where's Germany?"

"We have more than one house you know." Prussia stated as he started towards the open bar. "_Weizenbier_?" He asked.

"No, thank you."

"_Sì_, this is the guest house." Spain explained with a pleasant smile. "We always stay here, because Germany gets annoyed too easily." He laughed to himself.

"He's got a pole up his ass." Prussia added, pouring the drinks. "It's more fun over here anyways." England sighed, rubbing his still cold hands through one another.

"Yes, well... I would like to get to the point of my coming here." He stated, dropping his arms down to his sides professionally.

"Eh, what's the hurry!" Prussia walked over to his seat on the couch, passing the other drink to Spain. "Take a load off."

"I will do no such thing." England crossed his arms in annoyance. "I have come to ask... a favor." This seemed to peak Spain's interest.

"Oh? What would you like us to do then?" He questioned, tilting his head.

"It's just... I'm not good at the whole sabotaging thing anymore and I thought you could... you know, maybe-"

"Say no more Iggs." Prussia offered. "Say no more." He leaned back in his sofa, kicking his feet up and holding the back of his head in his hands. "I've got it covered anyways." England blinked in surprise.

"Really? But, how could you possibly-?"

"France is predictable." Prussia said simply.

"We'd be happy to help, anything to mess with France." Spain added helpfully.

"But." Prussia closed his eyes lazily. "Only if you agree to do it my way."

"Of course." England said quickly, finding this strangely easy.

"And." Ah, the dreaded and/but. "You remember to honor our little deal." Prussia peaked one eye open, as if daring the Brit to protest.

"I'm a gentlemen of my word." England defended.

"Well, 'gentlemen'." Prussia rubbed his hands together in excited scheming. "Prepare to get dirty."

* * *

**Remember to PM/Review if you have any particularly good ideas! Anything works~**

**Also, any guesses on what Prussia's gonna make England do at the end of all this? (:  
**


	5. Bar Breakers

_**A/N**_

**I am literally so sorry.**

**Here me out all, I have a mild excuse. It's really not much, and I don't deserve your forgiveness, but I will try to make it better!**

**NaNoWriMo was huge for me this year. I didn't finish on time because of work and such, however the story I was writing was something that had been prolonged for such a long time you have no idea, and I had an editor and everything. I was just focusing so much on making that story gold that I kind of ignored everything else completely for the past forever.**

**… sorry? *tear***

**Then there's also the issue of having felt like I when I write this BECAUSE its been so long. I make the characters OOC, that doesn't make sense, or that it's not funny enough, or that sentence didn't work, whatever. And I would write a paragraph, be all 'What am I doing. I need to get back to my other story.' If I had any time for writing at all.**

**And I'm not even done. That story is so long it's ridiculous. I've even begun to lose hope in it a number of times (as I think my editor has).**

**Anyway, I thought about it, and I realised that I need to make this a priority. I have so many wonderful reviewers, (Honestly, 9-10 per chapter is amazing), and loyal followers/favouriters. It makes me so happy to know that people actually enjoy my writing, and it takes off so much stress to just write knowing that people will at least smile if they read my story.**

**I want to try harder for you guys. Heck, I'll even say that I'll post of of my one-shots if we ever make it to 100 reviews on this story. That's a pretty high number now, but I have faith! (,:**

**This Author's Note is ridiculously long and I expect no one to read it all.**

***I don't own hetalia***

* * *

One may think that on a night such as this, such after a long meeting of conversing, pretending to listen, and even hosting; a person would be tired.

_Au Contraire_

After the meeting, a rather offended France floated off to his lovely home. He had shown only affection and the utmost of romance! Had this boy no sense of _l'amour_ in his entire body?!

Well, fine. If America was going to tactless and rude, then so shall he!

Except, France is never tactless, and would be rude in a gracefully refreshing manner.

Huffing, said country proceeded slip out a slim phone from his pocket, drumming his hands over the device until it found what he was looking for.

* * *

"It's _wicked_ awesome for you to have taken me out for drinks tonight!" America's impossibly large smile somehow widens as more liquor is poured into his cup; after the bartender did a rather intriguing flippy thing with the bottle that America totally was going to learn later.

France however, stares disgustedly at the boys alcoholic tastes.

"_Oui, oui,_ but you're wasting the generous invitation on... _Petit_ beer?" He questions, his lips pouting out as he spoke.

"Hell yeah, brah. Can't have a hangover for tomorrow morning, right?" The American nudges his companion's shoulder. It was meant to be a friendly gesture, but France was sent recoiling as soon as the other turned away to take a swig of his beer.

Hey, he bruised like a summer peach!

"_Mais_... I was thinking that we could go out after this, maybe to a French club or-"

"Oh naw dude! I need at least twelve hours of sleep and five cups of your baby sized coffee for waking up that early. Otherwise, I get ugly," America warned, raising his eyebrows and nodding for emphasis. France sighed, twirling his own proper red wine within his cup.

"I do respect the idea of beauty sleep," France murmured, unconsciously pulling down on his cheek skin.

"Hm? Did you say something?"

"Oh _non, non_," France smiles a rather fake smile. "We'll just see where the night takes us."

"... You mean back to our rooms."

"Our rooms... my room?"

"Huh?"

"I mean, you are in my country," France covered quickly, "It's technically all mine~!" He sung the end of the sentence, before adding quietly, "_aussi-tu._"

"Man, why do you keep muttering stuff to yourself?" America exclaimed. "It's freaking me out!"

"Ah, right. _Je suis désolé._"

"Bless you?"

"_Mon Dieu_!" France threw his hands in the air, admitting defeat within his own mind. "This is impossible! _Espagne et Prusse_ were right," he allows his forehead to hit the bar table, his hands covering his head shamefully.

"I understood about half of that."

"Did you even mildly pay attention to Canada when he spoke French?" France whined, on the verge of tears just thinking that America truly was so reluctant to learn his_ langue de l'amour._

"Canada speaks?!" America brought a hand to his forehead in shock, his mouth forming an 'o'

"What? He's your brother!" France shook his head exasperatedly.

"Wait... are we talking about the hairy one or Northern North America?"

"This really is impossible," the Frenchmen sighed, allowing his head to rest on the table in relative defeat.

America eyed him curiously for a moment, before remembering the small detail of which that France was buying, and signaling to the bartender excitedly.

"Do you guys serve French Fries here?"

* * *

_*This is Agent Awesome paging Captain Caterpillars. We've got a lock on target at precisely three O'clock. Over.*_

` England clenched his teeth, hand tightening around his walkie-talkie, which was surely derived from the nineties, in deep frustration. He then proceeded to move his thumb ever so slightly to press down on the big red button, (well, actually it was the _only_ button), reading 'talk', so hard, it began to make uncomfortable cracking noises. "I see them you nitwit. Honestly Prussia, I'm not bli-"

_*HEY! _What_ did we say about code names?!*_

"Screw the blasted code names!" England hissed into the microphone, "a toddler could have come up with better code names than you!"

_*I'm sorry. I can't respond to you due to the fact that you may or not be unauthorised personnel illegally hacking into my totally awesome system.*_

"Oh hush up," England shoved the out-of-date device back into his inner coat pocket, ignoring the staticy protests following, much like a child who didn't get his way. Which was actually rather close to the truth, England was really upset over the fact that he wasn't able to pick his own goddamned code name.

He just wanted to be Double-O-Unicorn. It was bloody genius.

Sighing, he allowed his eyes to discretely wander over to the bar table of which their '_targets_' sat. He himself, was currently sitting at a lone table, closest to the bar, with a singular glass of ale before him, though he had hardly touched it since the waitress brought it over. He wasn't entirely sure why they needed to have dressed to so strangely. Each one of them was currently wearing trench coats, sunglasses, and italian hats, all indoors.

And fake sodding moustaches.

It was a miracle England was able to put up with everything so far without killing off an entire continent out of sheer annoyance, but he held strong. For not at least he'd let Prussia bother the hell out of him until he could figure out _why_ exactly he was letting him bother the hell out of him.

_'You.. got me a gift then?'_

England blinked for a moment, before slowly bringing a hand to his forehead to massage it shamefully.

"God why am I such a blasted female."

_*HEY! CAPTAIN CATS! HELL-O-OO? Anybody there!? Execute the plan ya freaking Limey! Mein Gott, are you even still listening?*_

With a groan, he reached back into his coat pocket, pulling out the talkie as he did so, "yeah, yeah I'm hearing you."

_*Gees took you long enough. Tomato Tornado is in position and everything."_

"He is?" England's brow furrowed as he began to move his head around to see if he could spot the spaniard.

_*Sì~! Over here!*_

_*Hey, don't look around that's obvious- Oh god _damn_ it Spain! Don't wave!*_

Englands gaze rested on the strangely moustachioed Spain as he noticed the halted, all biet friendly, waving, and gave a curt nod, just to piss Prussia off.

_*Ohp. Sorry Agent A.*_

_*Whatever. At least you know how to use code names.*_

The Brits hand reached out for his ale, taking a quick swig as his eyes returned to the two nations at the bar table once again.

"Okay, I'm ready to head in on your signal," England managed, ripping off his fake moustache as he spoke, as well as removing his coat and hat.

_*All right. Captain Caterpillars is clear to become a butterfly.*_

England snorted, leaving the walkie-talkie in the long coat as he stood out of his chair. A knott welled in his stomach for some reason, making him unconsciously rub his forehead of sweat. Why was he sweating? _Wait a second._ Why wasn't he moving?

He cleared his throat, gallantly taking a large stride forward as he did so. Again, he put his foot in front of the other. Right. It wasn't that hard, he was making progress, England thought dully to himself, avoiding a waitress.

_Almost there old chap. You've got this._

He really was almost there. About three yards away now, all he had to do was sabotage the targets.

France murmured something that England didn't quite catch. America followed his comment with a boisterous laugh, pulling in his beer as he did so. France looked up at him as he uttered the noise, a strange grin on his face while he began to reposition himself upwards. Why he was slumping on the table to begin with was unbenounced to England, but he then leaned in towards the American, while America himself began to strike up conversation.

He stopped moving again. This time however, he didn't want to force himself forward. Well, he did. He wished in the worst way to run over there and tomahawk that smirk right off Frances face with something sharp, yet he didn't. It was as if there was a part of him screaming '_go_!', and another part of him screaming back '_why_?'

One of which was noticeably louder.

* * *

_It was a Sunday evening. The sun was shining brightly on the flowing field of grass, not a cloud in sight tampered with the interminable blue of the sky._

_Pressed against the side of a small hill, overlooking the valley, sat two. A small child and young adult, just content to be in one others presence. The youngest of the pair kept doing silly things to try and make the other laugh, or even smile, innocently unaware that he need not put in so much effort._

_After one particularly exhausting attempt, the boy flopped onto his back, arms wide, allowing the upwardly slanted ground to catch him as he fell. The older chuckled softly, leaning back to affectionately run his fingers through the soft, wheat coloured hair that was now at ground level._

_"We'll always have days like this, right England?" The small boy asked once their gazes met._

_"Well of course America," England began, furrowing his brow as he removed his hand. The question seemed sudden, but the older knew exactly where it was coming from, "just because I have to leave doesn't mean we'll never see each other again."_

_"I know, I know," America propped himself up on his elbows, looking to the side in thought as he puffed out his cheeks. He was trying to think of something to say. After a few moments, he let out a puff of air which he had apparently been holding._

_"It's just," the next part he uttered quickly, "we'll always be brothers, no matter what," he swallowed, as if embarrassed, before meeting the emerald gaze of his caretaker once more. "Right?"_

_"Right," England promised, eyes filling with more warmth as he said this, "we'll always be brothers."_

* * *

"Damned-sodding-blasted-freaking-" England took a half step back, muttering to himself in anger as the unfamiliar confusion began completely taking over his system, "the fuck am I doing here?"

_It's none of my business!_

He turned completely around, taking his eyes off of the friendly scene unfolding before him as his sighs were completely set on his old table. Walking, he couldn't help but notice, was much easier on the way back.

Before he even made it all the way there, he could hear Prussia's voice screaming into the walkie-talkie, which England grasped hold of in a panic, disregarding the loud and howls of disapproval.

"I can't go through with it."

_*I'm going to _kill_ you! Get your little british butt back over there and-*_

"I'm serious, I really can't do it," England reasoned, looking at the device desperately, as if it could feel sympathy.

_*Well _fine_! I'll just come down there until you get over your little girly melt down. Or better yet, Spain-*_

_*Oh! I heard my name, is that my cue?*_

_*Huh? No, your cue is 'flaming donkeys'*_

_*Ah! Fire in the hole!*_

_*Yeah you say that after you do it.*_

_*Good! I just did it*_

_*Wait. What?*_

The room was eerily silent.

"_FIRE!_" Someone shouted in a high pitched voice, breaking the unnatural quiet immediately. The bar became alive, people started to rampage in a mad dash for the doorways, shouting and panicking in their drunken spiels. None of them taking notice that the only thing on fire was a woven sculpture, made solely of hay, to create three pack mules carrying various hay represented items. The whole thing was about a foot tall, three wide, and it was a terrible decorating choice.

Spain was sitting in the table next to it, while several employees rushed to the aid of the homely statue. He feigned terror, standing up from where he was sitting with his faux facial hair askew on his upper lip. When he caught England looking at him, he gave a not-so-subtle wink and wave.

"You idiot!" England shouted lifting his arms in the air as if trying to find something to strangle. This yell of course, was rather loud, probably not loud enough for Spain to hear over the rampaging guests, but certainly loud enough for the people over at the open bar to hear, as he was sitting at the table nearest.

As if on cue, America turned around. France appeared to have not heard, as he was focusing on more apparent things such as safety, and hollering something along the lines of 'keeping his skin protected.' Though, both had risen from their seats and had been looking at the, literal, flaming donkeys.

However, England had ruined this clear chance of escape. With his shout, America would of course turn toward the familiar voice, saying a familiar thing, as such words in such tone would often be directed toward him anyway.

He saw him. With the realisation of the nation before him, America squinted his eyes in confused deliberation. Though it was quiet, the word was easily picked up upon through lip reading.

"_England_?"

He knew. He recognised him.

What England wouldn't give to have left that stupid moustache on.

* * *

**What was with that Flash Back?**

**This is getting emotional.**

**Remember, leave any suggestions as to what you would like to see as a review or private message, and if your idea has potential, than I will make a chapter revolving around "France trying to trick America into the sack with …" and you get a shoutout, as well as my undying gratitude! I don't really have any complete shout outs here, as I was sort of planning this, but I did take notes from Wicked-Lollypop's review, you had some good ideas (;**


	6. The Fastest Way

_**A/N**_

**I'm mildly early my lovelies~**

**Kind of … not really … For me at least,**

**It's sad because I earnestly intended to get this out to you all in a week. **

**I'm a little hesitant about this one however. I'm not as comfortable portraying America as I am England, so this might be a little rough, regardless, tell me how you like it, and if you want more of our little Alfies POV!**

**I'm really hoping it's not OOC**

**Please review your opinions and such, it'll inspire me a fast update~!(I'm not bribing, what are you talking about?) Also, if I see a very exciting request for how France might try and trick America into shabanging, I will probably be unable to quell my excitement and just write it.**

**Last time I didn't get too many reviews, but I take it as punishment for delaying for so long. Lets bring the amount of reviews on this chap back up to regular! (:**

* * *

_America_

Welp. I was officially, totally confused.

I mean, sure I was a little freaked out when France started acting all weird, but still not all that weird for him because he's France, though, hey, I'm a pretty chill guy, and I didn't really worry about it. Besides, he started to be kinda cool when he invited me to go get drinks with him. I mean, free shit, am I right!

Yet somehow, the bar we were at miraculously caught on fire… and then England appeared… and France fainted… and then the moustache guy…

I just seriously don't even know anymore.

I guess it was a good thing that I really did go and move my stuff out of England's house to a hotel after the meeting, but I did debate on stopping by again, just to see what was up prior to the bar incident. He wasn't there when I went to go and retrieve my suitcase, which was weird enough, I guess he went out drinking? It would explain why he was at a bar, though not a French one. Pretty sure he would rather eat brillo pads than go willingly to a French bar, instead of a pub.

But… he kinda hauled ass to get away once he saw me. I wonder if I really pissed him off. Maybe I could pick him up something when I get coffee in the morning? He loves sappy shit like that. I would know, I've pretty much been playing that card on him since I could walk.

Heh, he made the funniest face though. His humongous eyebrows shot up to the top of his head with his eyes bulging out, and his head kinda bobbed back as if it were a chickens.

I found myself guiltily pondering what I could do to make him recreate that expression once more.

That's not really to the point though. I guess maybe it was my imagination playing tricks on me to think that so much strange stuff was going on right now. You know, that kind of paranoid imagination when you think that your nightstand, which has always been in that one spot never moving or changing it's creepy shape, is some demon or ghost or something really really scary and you get all freaked out for no reason?

That kind of imagination.

* * *

"Oh why _Amerique_! You look positively _famished_!"

I blinked once, before looking down at my stomach, then back up at the person speaking.

"I do?"

"Why yes!" France had now gotten up from his seat, looking distressed as he made his way over to me with wide eyes. "if you don't eat something right now, I'm afraid you may waste away to nothing!" France exclaimed, before putting his hand on my chest dramatically, as if I would suddenly crumble into dust before his very eyes.

I couldn't help but feel a bit flattered.

"Well, I mean," I rolled my shoulders modestly, before doing a totally unplanned flip of my hair that just sort of happened. "I _have_ been working out a lot lately," I grinned.

"Far too much!" He said loudly, "if you get sick, how do you expect to survive in this state? Tell me America, have you been eating enough?" This time I was more than a little taken by surprise.

"Well …" I started, before France began rubbing my stomach, which kinda crossed the line into weird, so I had to pause and pick his hand off of me, "I guess I didn't really eat that much this morning. I mean, I only had like, what? Two… three… seven bacon and egg mcmuffins?" I pondered, squinting as I tried to remember. Life often became a blur when I ate Micky D's.

"That's… all?" France asked, though it almost seemed forced as he became noticeably repulsed for whatever reason. Maybe he finally noticed how stupidly pink his walls were.

"Yeah, that and coffee," I scratched my head.

"Can we please return to our seats?!" Germany begged, turned around fully, as everyone else was, to watch the late nation conversing with the host. I shot a smile, now remembering that there were other people in the room to witness how mothereffing fit I was.

"Oh, _bien sûr Allemagne!_" France promised, before sending him a scornful stink eye that I had received enough times to know where it was going, "as soon as you let me _finish_ the ever important teachings of nutrition to this fine young American over here!" He stuck his nose up in the air, as if he had every right in the world to disrupt the morning briefing so abruptly and completely.

"I think we call all agree that America desperately needs a lesson on nutrition," Germany agreed tirely, I frown and said '_hey_!', though he just continued talking, "but can't you do it on your own time? _Ehrlich_…"

I looked over at France, who had been late to respond to such comment. I thought it was because he couldn't think of a witty comeback, being French and all, but he instead was too busy smiling a tighliped, tilted grin, his eyes narrowed in almost an evil format.

"_Bon idée_." He muttered. I had no idea who '_Bonnie Day_' was, or why exactly she made him smile so creepily, but I definitely knew I felt bad for her.

France then turned to me, his smile still tugging at his lips, though he spoke through it, this time with a stern tone as he uttered, "Germany is absolutely right."

"Huh?" Said country blinked in surprise, eyeing the Frenchman with rightful disbelief.

"Germany's always right!" Another voice perked up from the seat beside him. Italy seemed especially happy to delay the meeting, though he could have just been his normal happy too, I really can't tell. "And if he isn't, tell him he is anyway, and then he won't get mad when you don't listen~" I snorted in laughter.

"Is _that_ what you do?!" Germany demanded angrily, seeming to forget our presence as his attention was redicrected.

"Ah, … no?"

"Anyway," France started once more, turning back to me with the intent of finishing his explanation, "Germany is right, this isn't the time, nor the place to lecture one about food."

"Kay?" I raised a brow, expecting for him to shut up at any time now.

"However, I cannot simply sit by and let your gift of a body be abused, any longer!" He prompted, sounding all official and what not, "and I must insist you allow me to cook a proper meal for you tonight. At my place, naturally."

In a quick effort effort to decline, I immediately pretended to look all regretful, and sucked in air to make an 'sss' noise so it really seemed legit.

"Man I'm sorry and all but,-" I began, shaking my head in the negative as I bought time to pick my brain for a good excuse

"You're right. You need to eat _now_," France held up a hand as if silencing me, though I wasn't actually saying anything. He then reached behind his back swiftly, his hand magically re-emerging with a well wrapped baked good that I could practically smell already.

"Whoa! How did you _do_ that?!"

"Take my lunch," France insisted, holding the food out to me while I excitedly pounced on it. Tell me you would reject a freaking teleporting pastry? "You need it far more than I do."

"Thanks dude!" I exclaimed, feeling a great need to peek at what exactly he had given me to eat, though I knew if I did I would just end up shoving it into my mouth.

"Shall we take our seats then?" Frances voice tore me from my flirtation with the baked good as I now was able to look over at the meeting table. Most everyone was talking amongst themselves, though I couldn't really hear them over the '_Vee! Germany, I'm sorry, you're right, I'll listen from now on!_' and '_Verdammt, Italy! That's not going to work now that you just told me that's what you've been doing this entire time!_'

I happily marched over to my large, cushioned seat. The name '_America'_ written on a piece of paper placed upon it, reserving it for me. Thankfully, that same seat from last time. I sat down cheerfully, before I allowed myself to open the white cloth cased food that was still in my hand. I really wasn't hungry, but it smelled so damn good I couldn't help but at least peek at it.

As I removed the cover, an immediate swirl of sweet steam flew into my face, making my eyes become large. The decently sized food item was a golden brown color. Trickled across the top was a well planned, and somehow unsmudged, pattern of white icing. This outside twisted snugly around a red berry sauce, I only knew this as it was oozing out from around the unclosed sides. I swear to god a ray of light was just shining down on the thing, and in that very moment a chorus of angels was singing somewhere around that general area.

As I felt a little bit of drool run down my chin, I lost all will power and practically shoved the entire pastry into my mouth. I felt my eyes start to lull back into my skull as I let out a low pleased noise.

"There's more of that to come~!" I heard France whisper to me, which was surprising since I was trying to focus on nothing at all but the taste of whatever it was that I was eating.

"Are you ingesting that damned sweet, or making love to it?" I heard someone question sarcastically, but I didn't care who, nevermind focus enough to notice who it was.

Instead, I moaned loudly. Just to be annoying.

* * *

"More! _Oh_ more!"

"Are you sure you can fit it all into your mouth?"

Silence for a moment.

"That's what she said…"

"_Mon dieu Amerique_… That one didn't even make sense," France let out an exasperated sigh.

"Your _mom_ doesn't make sense," I responded automatically, though it was kind of hard to understand from all of the food and such blocking my voice.

"We don't have _mères_! We're nations!"

"Well I don't know I don't know what that has to do with anything," I raised a brow as I realised how much of an idiot he actually was, "but I have definitely owned a horse before."

France didn't say anything for a moment, before going back to take a swig of his wine.

"Shut up and eat your crêpes."

I happily obliged, this time shoving three into my mouth at once proudly, which made Francey Pants have to look away he was so in awe.

it was a while after the meeting, the sun was starting to go down and France had stayed true to his word, inviting me over for dinner. Needless to say, I accepted right after tasting that magically delicious whatever-it-was, and came right over to his house at five or so. He had about four different courses planned, and I was already on my last, mostly because I literally just stopped chewing at a certain point.

Though, nothing he fed me was actually as good as whatever it was I ate at the meeting. He said he had some left, though I could only have it for dessert and if I ate everything in sight. It reminded me of when I was a kid and England would say the same thing, except he lied and never actually had anything that tasted even mildly good to offer me after I ate his ass-grown vegetables.

Though if France was lying, I would probably set fire to his hair.

I'm not kidding. I can't even express how delicious that baked good was.

I was being sort of obnoxious about it. I really just wanted more of that whatever, so I made it a point to be as quick, and probably repulsing, as I possibly could with my food. It was amusing to watch France turn green, but it was his own fault, and I have no regrets.

"So,-" I began, spitting a little bit of the chewed up food out as I spoke. "When-em-eh-go-no-et-muh-of-er-spuff?"

"Excusez-moi?" France asked, his eyes squinting as he tried not to look at my half eaten food.

I swallowed the large amount with only mild complication, before repeating myself, "when am I gonna get my other stuff?" I obliged, nodding to the empty plates before me. "There isn't another course is there?" I asked. I wouldn't ever admit to it again, but I wasn't in the mood to eat anything else honestly. I was getting full, and I wanted to eat that poptart-shameing-piece-of-heaven and go home to digest as soon as possible.

"_Non, non,_" France shook his head, before shooting me one of his creepy little smirks that I had just gotten so used to they didn't affect me any more. "I keep _ma spéciale_ surprise upstairs, in my room," as he spoke, he began to push out from his seat. I wasn't even going to comment on how weird it was that he kept food in his bedroom. I honestly didn't want to think too hard about it.

"Awesome!" I called, as he left me alone in the kitchen. I was allowing my anticipation to get the better of me while I found myself watching the stairs impatiently, not wanting to wait for one more second. After only a few moments, though what felt like the time it took for Mr. Whale to get out of the bathroom, I heard Frances footsteps on the stairwell once more.

I smiled largely as I noticed the well wrapped item within his grasp, knowing of course what it was. "Gimmi!" I demanded, yanking the object from his hand before France had the chance to object.

"_Oui, Oui,_" he shook his head in amusement while I tore off the towelette casing. It was the same steamy golden color as before, the same drizzle of snowlike icing, the same glossy red dripping from the sides.

But it was a lie. The goddamned cake was a goddamned lie.

I was blissfully caught up in the serendipity of it all, ignorantly, I clamped my jaw right down on the center of the treat, the jelly filling squirting into my mouth.

My eyes narrowed. I froze.

"If you still want more," France began, waving his hand indifferently, "we can go get some. They're in my bedroom if you'd like to accompany me of course. I can't carry all of them alone you know~!"

I didn't respond. I didn't dare move.

France finally registered something was wrong. Terribly wrong. "_Am … erique?_ Are you-?"

I couldn't take the taste anymore, my body shook with a need of rejection as I ripped the distasteful food from my mouth, leaning over and spitting the disgusting slimy… whatever, out of my mouth vehemently.

"_Amerique_!" France shouted, flabbergasted. "What are you doing!? What's wrong?!"

"Holy shit!" I cried in between gags. "This is the literal taste of _feces_ that has been _blessed_ by the _devil_!"

"My food is _délicieux_!" France now became offended, yelling at the same velocity as I, "You said so yourself!"

"This is the _worst_ thing I've ever tasted!" I accused. "I don't even think anyone could make anything more gross! Not even-"

* * *

"_Kesesese_! You really pulled through for us England!" Prussia whisper yelled, his voice cracking with the effort of constraining his laughter. Spain, by this point, was literally rolling in the leafy dirt, unable to watch anymore as he died a silent, mirthful death.

England too, was fighting the dreadful pang that begged for the release of laughter. Despite the fact that America was reacting that way to _his_ cooking. It was still _so, so sweet._

"Worth it," he insisted with his michfous grin. Unable to get enough of the faces and shouts of displeasure from within the large french home, he continued "My secret ingredients were toad intestines and owl urine," he whispered back, before breaking off into a delightful, silent, breathless laugh when France himself tried a bit of the resulting red sauce.

The three nations were currently crouched in the well trimmed bushes pressed against Frances home, watching the successfully sabotaged meal through one of his large, crystallized windows.

But like all good things, the scene before them eventually calmed down, America left as quickly as his feet could take him, and France was left alone to curse his misfortune.

"I was afraid you wouldn't come," Spain admitted, choking out the words after a few solid minutes of airlessness.

"Couldn't stay away," I shrugged, still eyeing the depressed image of France through the glass. It was tremendously easy to see inside, as by this hour it was dark, and the kitchen was illuminated accordingly.

It felt so good to be evil.

"Actually, I was too," Prussia added, leaning against the exterior of the powder blue home to raise a suspicious brow at England, "_especially_ after you completely ignored an entire palette of 'Fat America' jokes at the meeting earlier."

I finally tore my gaze away, "well that was just because,-"

"Good point!" Spain chirped, intercepting England's response. "Has our little _Inglaterra_ finally given in~?" Spain asked suggestively, shooting him a look that confused him a little.

"What are you saying?" England demanded.

"Good point Spain," Prussia continued, "why _did_ you decide to come here today? I thought you said it didn't matter to you what happened to these two?" Prussia smiled with an equal amount of evil as Spain

"_Sì,_ also that you didn't care!" The spaniard continued.

"Now hold on a minute,-"

"Oh! And what was it?" Prussia continued with a chuckle as he shoved Englands shoulder teasingly, "that he had '_better things to do_'?"

Spains laughter at that comment thoroughly irritated England.

"I'll have you _both_ know," England spoke at a dangerously loud volume for their placement in order to disregard the laughter and gain attention, "that I just had to sort a few things out. Before I could really feel comfortable doing this sort of thing."

"Oh really?" Prussia prompted.

"Yes really," England was irreparably annoyed with this incessant jabing. If he hadn't already sat down and written out a well thought out pros and cons list, he would be questioning why he was even here, "and I'll have you know I have finally come to the root of my being. The fiber of my soul. The reason the entirety of this experience has been so bloody bothersome."

The two nations were silent. Surprised at his words were written on their faces as they eagerly awaited for his next line. England supposed they had known all along. The feeling was so strong, so obvious, he honestly wondered why he hadn't just realised it before. He always knew, that was true. The degree and just how deeply he felt this however, it varied.

That was new. However, the feeling. This feeling, it had always been there. Somewhere deep inside, never faltering.

He took in a breath, he was to admit to the world the reason he was going to do everything in his power to prevent France from sleeping with America.

And no one. Not anyone. Could tell him of any other reason.

* * *

**Get it? 'The Fastest Way … to a mans heart is through his stomach?'**

**Don't even pretend it wasn't clever**

**S/O to 91RedRoses pretty much for the name of this chapter, as well as the French Cuisine bit; Also JulietGivesUp, also for suggesting France cook for America.**

**Thank you so much you two! Also for your trusty reviews, you're both absolutely lovely! (:**

**In the meantime, I'm such an asshole for ending it like this~.**


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